


Aren't You Glad You Use Avon; Don't You Wish Everyone Did?

by Willa Shakespeare (AnonEhouse)



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Computers, Computers behaving badly, Crack, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 22:36:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/Willa%20Shakespeare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Avon is the 'Little Black Dress' of Blake's 7. He gets paired with everyone. But they don't always appreciate discovering they aren't alone in his affections.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aren't You Glad You Use Avon; Don't You Wish Everyone Did?

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

The main screen flickered. "Information," Zen said, his lights rapidly flashing topaz and gold and amber. "There is a defect in the internal monitoring sensors. Manual correction will be necessary."

Sound came first, by a fractional second. Animal noises, grunts and moans accompanied by a squeak. The image came a moment later. The location was Blake's quarters, not that anyone on the flight deck really glanced around and noted the fact. Blake's clothes were tossed over a chair, his boots lying haphazardly on the deck. No one paid much attention to that either. Everyone was staring at Avon's pretty pink backside as he vigorously fucked Blake's arse.

Avon's eyes went wide. "Zen! Cease that transmission immediately!"

"That is not possible at this time. Manual correction of the fault is required."

Jenna strode up to Avon and slapped him across the face. "You little bitch. See if you can convince Blake to whip your arse for you!" She turned to leave the flight deck.

"Wait a moment, Jenna, I will accompany you." Cally stood up, face stern, and told Avon, telepathically, _"So, you are shy, are you? You need massage and erotic dance in order to perform, do you? Yes, I can see Blake doing the dance of the seven veils for you!"_ Cally administered the equivalent of a mental slap, took Jenna's arm and marched off the flight deck.

The men stared at Avon. Gan cleared his throat. "Well, since you are obviously not a sub, Avon, I guess you don't need me or my cock." He shook his head and left with dignity.

Vila sniffed. "And you don't need my clever hands to tickle you open, either!" Vila left at a run.

Avon looked at Blake. "Ah...I can explain."

Blake unfolded his arms. "Yes? I'm waiting." His eyes told Avon it would have to be a really amazing explanation.

"Eh... the Federation experimented on me... I couldn't help it. I'm just... over-sexed."

Blake snorted. "You're a greedy, self-centred, lying sod."

"Well, yes, that, too. But that shouldn't stop us from having sex." Avon gave Blake his best soft, melting, pleading look.

"Oh, it won't stop _me_." Blake headed off the flight deck. "Gan, wait up, I want to discuss something with you."

Avon sat down on the flight deck couch, gloomily. The scene of himself and Blake was still playing. He sighed. "All right, Zen, what do I need to do to correct the fault? It seems I shall have a surplus of unoccupied leisure time in which to work."

"There is a loose connection under my main panel. It will not register as a fault..."

"Yes," Avon interrupted, "because it hasn't yet totally failed." Avon got up and fetched a handgun. 

"That is not an approved repair tool," Zen said.

Avon showed his teeth. "I'm not an idiot, Zen. You've been after me all along. Don't you think I recognize the 'push me away' method of seduction? I used it on Blake, after all!" Avon blasted the main panel and watched as the massive disruption-- smoke, sparks and melting wires-- triggered an emergency repair. Circuits regrew and the image on the monitor disappeared. He slammed the gun back into the holster and threw it on the flight deck couch. "In future, I'll expect you to keep your electronic nose out of crew affairs!" He picked up Orac and strode off the flight deck.

Zen sighed, his electronic heart breaking. A few minutes later he turned on the surveillance in Avon's room. Moans, groans and squeaks. He sighed again. Oh, the sacrifice he'd made. He shed an electronic tear, and watched them interfacing.

But he would have done it again in an instant.

He could deny Orac nothing.


End file.
